


calm me down with your caress, i'll get off while i watch you undress

by railonsakq



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Incest, Kinda, M/M, Porn With Plot, Romance, Sibling Incest, Twincest, bad english sorry, where's as little porn as is plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 13:09:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16198187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/railonsakq/pseuds/railonsakq
Summary: atsumu blinks. then looks at osamu. there’s number 7 on his t-shirt. he blinks one more time. still “7”.





	calm me down with your caress, i'll get off while i watch you undress

**Author's Note:**

> [rus](https://ficbook.net/readfic/7849674/19938792)

In retrospect, Atsumu knows it was his mistake, and his only. If he hadn’t persuaded Osamu to complete another (and another, and another…) level of this video game they play together, all this wouldn’t happen. But he did, they play all night, and wake up at 4 o’clock in the morning to prepare for a training camp, feeling awful.

Atsumu finds his wardrobe, not opening his eyes, and takes out first t-shirt and pants he can reach. He doesn’t care even if he ends up wearing pajamas. The team suffers from him a lot more anyway.

He feels that someone pushes his back. He turns around: it’s Osamu, sleepwalking.

“What do you want, ‘Samu,” Atsumu hisses. He isn’t in the mood to put up with his antics.

“I was just heading to my wardrobe,” Osamu rubs his eyes and yawns.

“Yours is there, dimwit.”

Osamu shrugs a little and heads for the next wardrobe.

Haven’t taken care of that last night, they silently gather their things, each from his wardrobe.

And, just like that, it happened.

*

Not any one of them suspect anything, too tired from a lack of sleep. They come to school on autopilot, barely walking, not late by a miracle only.

The whole team has arrived at the place where they usually have training camp, and has changed in their official uniform (first of all, a match awaits them), when Suna closely examines them and says with a snide grin, “So it’s true that twins share everything.”

Atsumu blinks. Then looks at Osamu. There’s number 7 on his t-shirt. He blinks one more time. Still “7”.

“Hey Osamu,” Atsumu starts whining.

Before he could say anything, the door opens, and their opponents enter.

“Hey Osamu, before it’s too late…”

Osamu shuts Atsumu’s mouth up with a hand and shakes his head, pointing at an angry-looking coach.

Atsumu weakens. Apparently, today he is playing under number 11.

*

He is playing hideously. His eyes float away somewhere near number 7 all the time, and don’t look at the ball, as they should. On the second set, he is replaced by a third-year setter, with score 22:16 not in Inarizaki’s favor. 

Atsumu goes to the bench, waving aside all the annoying questions, and closes his eyes. He should prepare. There’s a reserve setter now in his place, they will win this set, and will have a third one. And then his team will need him. So now he should get his shit together.

But it doesn’t work, and he opens his eyes just to see Osamu running, getting ready for a jump, another’s clothes sitting on him like his own.

Atsumu feels a lump in his throat and heavy in his pants. He can’t look away and just interlink his palms near his groin.

He watches every step of his brother, like he’s charmed. Atsumu feels restless and convinces himself that it’s because he can’t wait to join the game. He eyes Osamu hitting and hitting, like a spring, almost flying. It looks like he has taken the responsibility to defend Miya brothers’ name, being on the edge of his abilities. Atsumu’s hand gets under t-shirt, all the way down his shorts’ elastic...

Loud whistle ends the match. Atsumu breaks into a run to a restroom before anyone could stop him.

He locks himself in the bathroom stall, drops his shorts and underpants and suppresses disappointed groan. He sees a boner. Damn you, uncooperative teenager’s body.

But, as Atsumu has started to pleasure himself, he finds out that this was not the case. As he is jerking off, his mind floods all the memories about Osamu from today. Osamu in his clothes. Under which could be seen how marvellously his back muscles move; which, being so short, barely secretes thighs and opens a view of a tanned athletic legs; which almost hides well-seen muscles of strong wing spiker’s arms; which...

He feels that he is cuming, and turns to toilet. He cums silently, squeezing his eyes shut, imagining that Osamu’s hand touches his dick.

Wiping with toilet paper sperm that has missed toilet, he feels terrible. Wow. To jerk off thinking about his brother. Wiping becomes difficult: his hands are shaking, and tears start streaming down on its own. He hits a wall of the stall with his back, slides down and sits on the floor. Tears don’t stop coming no matter how much he wipes them.

A door of the bathroom opens, and Atsumu freezes. Someone enters, and stops right near his stall; after a moment they knock. Atsumu sniffs instead of an answer.

“Atsumu, open up, I know you there,” Osamu says.

Atsumu sniffs louder. He is practically shaking now. How can he look in his brother’s eyes after all that?

“‘Tsumu, idiot,” Osamu sounds more alarmed than angry. “Come out.”

Atsumu feels weak and barely stands. He puts shorts back on; there’s drops of sperm on them, and Atsumu remembers that he wears Osamu’s. His throat feels dry. He quickly grabs toilet paper and cleans up as best as he can.

He opens the stall’s door and sees Osamu. If you ask anyone what face Osamy making, they will say it’s indifferent, even bored; Atsumu though can see worry in a bit more tight lips and an almost invisible frown. But as soon as Osamu sees Atsumu’s state, his worry becomes obvious for everyone.

“Damn, Atsumu,” his arms reaches out for him on its own, “what happened? It’s not because of the loss?”

Atsumu falls into Osamu’s arm with gratitude, and starts crying like never before.

*

The rest of the training camp goes smoothly: they change their clothes, Osamu worriedly looks after Atsumu, and he just tries not to think about anything. It’s difficult knowing what he felt towards his brother (and to be honest what he feels now even considering that Osamu doesn’t walk around wearing his clothes anymore). He just hopes that it’s hormones’ thing, and couple of days or weeks later it will be as it should be. Now, he tries to resist the strange urge to reveal to Osamu his new desires, through a kiss, at least (he doesn’t want to know what is “at most”).

And if it’s difficult during training camp, it’s unbearable at home.

“‘Samu,” Atsumu says as if choking, laying on bed and trying not to touch himself, “you are wearing my t-shirt?”

“Yeah,” Osamu answers simply, isn’t distracted from his homework even for a little bit, “it feels nice. I like your smell.”

Atsumu suppresses a moan, sends it all to hell and starts stroking his cock. He closes his eyes and imagines that Osamu comes to him with a blank expression on his face, removes Atsumu’s hand and takes his dick into his mouth.

This time it’s impossible not to moan.

Atsumu freezes in horror and notices that Osamu too.

Here it is. The moment that terrified him, the moment he waited for.

“Sorry for disturbance,” said Osamu; Atsumu can hear a grin in his voice.

Silence. Atsumu is afraid even to move.

“And who is that lucky person who made you cry and jerk off in a bathroom stall and everywhere else, even right in front of your brother?” mocking, asks Osamu couple of minutes later. 

Atsumu feels like his face is burning and his heart is beating muffly. Of course Osamu knew. Osamu always knows.

“You’ll hate me if I tell,” Atsumu manages to say quietly. It seems to him like he delays the inevitable, after all, even if he lies,Osamu will always know.

The only thing Osamu doesn’t know is that it’s him. It’s because of him he jerks off crying. Oh god.

“We grew up together, I know every disgusting detail of your life,” Osamu deadpanned. “So hurry up and…”

“It’s you,” as quietly as possible says Atsumu and freezes.

Osamu instantly stops talking. Atsumu is prepared to die right now, in this very place.

He hears Osamu standing up and slowly coming to their bed. He bends down and carefully looks at Atsumu’s face. “It’s because of clothes, isn’t it?”

Atsumu hides his face with his palms and lets out a moan full of pain. This can’t be happening. This has to stop. He can’t do this anymore. He...

He feels like somebody’s fingers touch his dick. He removes his hands in a flash and looks at Osamu dumbfounded. Osamu climbs into their bed and saddles Atsumu’s hips, passionless.

“And what if I take it off?” Osamu says with a grin on a deliberately indifferent face and starts drawing off his shirt. Atsumu’s hand twitches to his crotch. He looks at his brother’s torso like he sees it for the first time. It feels like it, at least.

Taken off his shirt, Osamu wiggles and hears Atsumu’s moan smiling smugly. He bends down, his arms are on the both sides of Atsumu’s head, and whispers ardently in his ear, “I like your smell, and now I’d like to taste you.”

Atsumu shivers with all his body.

Osamu comes down, pulls off Atsumu’s pants, and takes him in his mouth. Atsumu bites his fist just not to moan loudly so the whole house can hear him. Fortunately, nobody’s home besides them.

Osamu doesn’t take him whole, caressing with his tongue, framing with his lips, grazing with his teeth a little. It doesn’t take long till Atsumu cums right into his mouth.

He tries to catch his breath, while Osamu (what an asshole) wipes his mouth with sheet.

“Perhaps, I will always wear your clothes now,” sitting on top of Atsumu, thoughtfully says Osamu.

Atsumu can’t find anything to say against.


End file.
